Look how precious, this little rat is obsessed with this kitty cat:
I love it!
Are you one of those who thinks 19th century American poet Emily Dickinson spent her time alone in her father’s house in Amherst, Mass? That she never even kissed a boy and probably lay in bed at night pretending to french her pillow? Ha!
Christopher Benfey at Slate argues that “spinster” Emily had several gentleman callers in her lifetime. And one of them was a judge her father’s age!
Benfey cites evidence from stuffy scholarly journals proving Emily was engaged while she was in college. She even – gasp! – entertained men at home. Her poetry certainly brimmed with longing and love, but for whom? Who inspired lusty lines such as these:
Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Futile the winds
To a heart in port,
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!
Was it the judge? The college beau? Whoever he was, he inspired some of America’s most potent poems about love and lust. Isn’t it interesting to know that Emily wasn’t just pretending?
A lot of my feminists friends question my devotion to Woody Allen, but they can kiss it. Woody’s my favorite American film maker. If you, like me, would rather spend two hours in a dark theater with a movie of Woody’s than do anything else, you might want to check out Mr. Allen’s recent interview with The Onion’s A.V. Club.
I wasn’t too shocked to learn that Woody never watches a picture once he’s done with it. I think many artists and writers (myself included) could learn from his ability to not get caught up in nostalgia:
That’s a pleasure I deny myself, because then you get into nostalgic self-involvement, and I don’t think that would be good for me. I don’t like to reminisce much, and my walls don’t have photographs of me and the actors I was with, or any of that stuff. If you were in my house in New York, you wouldn’t know I was in the movie business. It just looks like a regular house, like the home of a lawyer or something, and I try and keep that disciplined, and just work. There are so many traps you can get into, and looking back on your own work is certainly one of them.
However, Woody’s pessimistic attitude about love kind of saddened me. He didn’t have very positive things to say about love and you can read into that what you will. Of course, he’s discussing love in the context of his current film Vicky Christina Barcelona, but it sure seems like the man whose characters – and, let’s face it, who himself – always recklessly chased love has concluded that, in the end, true love is effusive.
But, maybe I’m reading too much into his answers. Tell me if I am .